Full Circle
by PrincessMaryJaneKOA
Summary: What if Anne gave birth to a son who died young? Edward, Jane's son, dies young as well. Forcing Henry to reinstate Mary as his as Heir. After all, it is her destiny to be Queen of England. Oneshot. AU. Mary/Philip of Bavaria. Not for Anne/Henry lovers.


**AN: This is cannon until 1533. After that it is pretty much cannon again until 1541. This story is not for Anne/Henry fans or Elizabeth fans. If you don't like Mary, or stories where Mary succeeds as Queen instead of being 'Bloody' Mary then this isn't the story for you. **

August 1533

It was a boy.

All her hopes that the good Lord would hear her prayers and smite the wicked bastard in the Concubine's womb or at least that the child be a sickly girl were unheeded.

Despite this blow, Chapuys assured her that the child was weak. He had arrived a month or so early, as had her Uncle Arthur.

This child too, was said to have the weak constitution of his long-dead uncle.

It was a fitting tribute then, to name the boy Arthur.

Not Henry, because everyone remembered Henry Fitzroy, and of course Mary's older brother Henry, Duke of Cornwall, who had departed this life so early.

Privately it was said that Henry did not want to name his son after himself when his position on this earth was still so uncertain.

It was an open secret that Arthur was weak and sickly, he refused to thrive and that his mother's position was far from secure. Many people, although she had now given birth to a son, still viewed Katharine, rather than Anne as the rightful Queen, and Mary as the rightful heir.

To put an end to all the speculation regarding the heir, the King held a grand christening for the babe, which Mary was pointedly left out of. However Arthur barely made a sound, let alone moved during the ceremony (or so she was told) and it was clear to everyone present that the King's precious son would be lucky to last the year.

But the Boleyn's put on a brave face and Anne continued to try and convince Mary to recognize her as Queen of England, with little success.

" As I have stated before, Lady Anne, I recognize no Queen but my mother. I will consent to call your child, brother, but I cannot in all good conscience recognize him as legitimate when he was clearly born of an unlawful and sinful union."

" Not even when you father, the King, as head of the church, commands that you do so? The Prince is a boy, Lady Mary. Surely you do not think that even the heretics and traitors of this realm that support you, would rise up against a boy?"

" Indeed not madam." Mary replied defiantly. " If my brother were indeed a true Prince instead of merely another illegitimate bastard of the King then those who may support my claims above that of a true Prince would be indeed treason, however as I have already stated, the child recently borne to my father and yourself is in no way legitimate and therefore there can be no question of treason with regards to the people supporting me as the only heir to the throne and the only Princess of England, since that is what I am. "

She smiled triumphantly.

" I would of course, obey my Lord father in all things but for this one matter in which I cannot as it would be an affront to God and my conscience, to falsely recognize a child who is not legitimate and never will be."

Anne raised an eyebrow.

Mary took that as her cue to leave.

She had shown her hand. Anne now knew that Mary would not and could not acknowledge Arthur as the Prince of Wales.

" Madam." She curtsied slightly, as one would to be polite to a person whose social rank was below them, rather than to a Queen of England.

It did not take long for Anne to find some punishment for Mary's disobedience.

The very next week, Mary received a letter from Secretary Cromwell stating that her presence was required at the Prince's household in Hatfield, to 'wait and serve upon his Royal Highness, Arthur, Prince of Wales as long as 'Their Majesties King Henry and Queen Anne see fit.'

Chapuys was outraged, as were the many supporters of her position and her mother but there was nothing they could do. But no matter what happened Mary knew that she would never recognize Arthur, or any of his siblings as heirs to the throne and unless her father realised his mistake and took her mother back, Mary and Mary alone remained the only possible heir.

Someday. Someday, I shall be Queen of England. God help the Harlot and her wicked relatives if they are still alive when that day arrives. For I shall be inclined to treat them as horribly as they have treated my mother and myself.

That thought would be the only thing to keep her sane in the long days, weeks and months to come, as Mary realised that she had gone from the most beloved jewel in England to this.

Her father was wrong to say she never cried.

Mary cried.

She cried for all that she had lost, for herself, her mother and her father.

She cried because her heart was broken.

This was a disaster! Henry had thought that all his problems would be solved once his son was born. The people would soon love their new Queen who had provided a son when the old one did not. However he had greatly underestimated the people.

They still adored Katharine, a charitable and pious lady, who was of royal linage and who, the people whispered, had provided a live son. A legitimate son. It was not her fault he had died three months after he was born.

Whereas they still hated Anne mainly due to her low birth and the greed and arrogance of the Boleyn/Howard faction. What was worse still was that many people still regarded Anne Boleyn as nothing more than a Concubine and a usurper and Arthur as illegitimate.

But Arthur's legetitimacy probably wouldn't be a worry for much longer. Henry had been so ecstatic when he had learned that at last he had a son. Then he saw him.

The midwives had informed him that although the babe was just over a month early that it would not do it any harm. Time would tell whether it had done him any harm mentally but it was clear to Henry that his new son was far from fine physically.

His chest was barely rising and falling with each breath, he was pale and barely moving. Henry tried to calm himself; after all, he was only mere minutes old. His heart plummeted however when his precious son opened his mouth, and let out a small cough, rather than a wail.

Even Henry knew that crying after the birth was essential for any healthy newborn to prove that they were healthy and strong.

At least now I have a son. A legitimate son that no one can question. Soon I shall have a Duke of York and many more sons.

Henry could not help but feel angry with Anne, after all, she knew that a son was needed to secure their marriage and that taking care of herself while with child should have been her first priority. If it were not for her irrational temper and her unwillingness to turn a blind eye to his extra-marital affairs his precious heir would be healthy.

Anne could tell that Henry was angry with her. She did not understand why. Anne had given him his son. The infant may have been slightly weak, but time and neutering would soon fix that.

" I know he is small Henry, but I am sure that he will soon grow strong and healthy like his father." She flashed him a small, comforting smile.

" What is his name?" Anne continued, hoping to coax a reaction from him.

" Arthur. After my brother." Henry looked down at his tiny son, who instantly reminded him of his older brother Arthur who had always been weak and helpless and who had died young.

" Arthur? Why not Henry? Since he is to be King Henry IX one day."

" Because Anne." Henry spat his temper flaring up.

" Can you not see that he will be unlikely to live to see his first year of life? If it were not for your temper and your grievances he would have been perfectly fine. It is you I blame madam for his condition!"

" Me?" Anne sat up straight, her eyes blazing.

" If anyone is to blame for our son's condition it is you, Henry! If you had not gone off with every wench available while I was with child none of this would have happened. And now, while I am still recovering, I hear that half of England are still supporting Katharine and her bastard!"

" I am the King of England Madam. It is perfectly within my rights to take a mistress if I choose, and as my wife it is your duty to respect that. As for Katharine and Mary did you not stop to think that the country supports them because Katharine knew her place? She did not think interfere with matters not concerning her, and because he." Henry gestured to the baby. " Is hardly a better choice than a fully grown, healthier heir, even a woman."?

" This does concern me Henry. I am your wife for God's sake. And are you forgetting the fact that your bastard wench Mary was never your true heir? You have a son now Henry, you should be happy!"

" And you should learn your place Madam. I would be happy, had you provided me with an heir. Instead all I have is a weak son who is unlikely to live past a year. He is to be named Arthur and that is the end of the matter."

Despite he himself having grave doubts about his new heir Henry planned a grand christening to leave all of England in no doubt as to his son's status. Mary was pointedly not invited, for which she was glad. She could not and would not watch as the Harlot and her supporters christened the bastard usurper as a Prince.

She had yet to meet the child that had taken everything from her. So her days at Hatfield were mostly idle. She spent most of her time in prayer, trying to avoid the stares of the other members of Arthur's new household, some gazes pitying, others barely concealing a smile, at the sight of the quiet young girl's misfortune.

The christening was a grand affair (or so she had been told by Chapuys who as the Imperial Ambassador had been forced to attend), even grander than her own had been. He was, of course, baptised by that heretic Crammer and falsely pronounced as

'His Royal Highness, Arthur, Prince of Wales." The Harlot's sister, Mary, held him when everyone present knew that the 'honour' of holding the child should have gone to the eldest sibling.

Now that the christening was over however, Mary did not have luxury of pretending that the boy did not exist. Chapuys had been right, the child was indeed weak. But try as she might, she could not ill wish him. Though he was a false Prince and a bastard, he was still her brother, her first sibling that had survived. Mary vowed that despite who his mother was, she would love him and protect him from all harm, as a sister should. She could not acknowledge him as a Prince, but she could acknowledge him as her brother.

**September 7, 1534**

To everyone's surprise, little Arthur did manage to survive until his first birthday. His health was still frail to his parent's dismay, and he showed no signs of improvement or development, but at least he was alive. It had been a troubling and hectic year for Mary.

She was still unable to see her mother, and though Anne's position was far from secure, the Boleyn faction rejoiced in the fact that their girl had given the King a son (although he was weak), and as a result, many members of the household rubbed this in at every opportunity. Anne had tried even harder than ever to get Mary to recognize her as Queen, to no avail.

Mary had even seen her father once. When Lady Bryan had announced that the King was coming to Hatfield for one foolish moment Mary rejoiced, of course he would be coming to visit Arthur, but surely, as his daughter, he would spend time with her as well.

How wrong she was. All her life whenever her father had visited, he had never ignored her no matter how busy he was. Now, he went straight to Arthur's cradle and scooped him up into his arms. " My son, my precious heir. Do you know Lady Bryan? Someday this little boy shall rule over a great empire."

It was as though she did not exist.

He was leaving. He was leaving without a word. She could not let him leave.

Mary practically ran toward the balcony, as she watched her father walk outside toward his waiting retinue, as if by some divine intervention he turned around.

They locked eyes for a few seconds. In those few seconds Henry felt his heart pound with guilt. Her eyes said more than words ever could.

How could you abandon me? Leave me here, all alone without my mother? Wasn't I once the Pearl of your world?

Just as quickly his eyes became as cold as ice. Mary had made her choice and he had made his. Henry bowed to her.

Mary felt her heart sink. Her eyes betrayed the hurt, but she curtsied in response, she would show her father that she was still a perfectly trained Princess, still the Pearl of his world.

Then maybe he would return to her.

Anne was falling. She could sense it. Although she had given the King his desired heir, one was scarcely enough, especially considering Arthur's fragile health. The problem was that she could not seem to produce another child. It had been a year and she had already suffered one miscarriage. One miscarriage was a disappointment, but Anne was in her thirties now, she was no longer young and if she could not conceive again….

Henry had continued having mistresses, especially after her miscarriage and he was beginning to grow tired of her. He would not get rid of her while Arthur was alive but as her father and brother constantly reminded her, Arthur was fragile. He still refused to thrive. She saw him whenever she could and Henry sent the best physicians to Hatfield to care for him around the clock, but she needed another son. But for now she immersed herself in the joy of her son's first birthday celebrations at Hatfield, and tried to ignore the growing feeling of dread.

**7****th**** of January 1536**

Her mother was dead. She would never see her again. Never feel her soft arms hold her, never smell her sweet perfume, never practice her Spanish with her.

They said her heart was black. The Harlot and her hateful relatives laughed, and said it must be proof of her evil for 'daring to entrap the King into a false union'. Mary wanted to burn them all. The vast majority of England, however, came to the conclusion that Katharine of Aragon, Queen of Hearts, had been poisoned, the rumours differed as to who, but most believed that it was Anne.

Chapuys tried to comfort her, even as they confiscated most of the items that had been left to her in her mothers will. He informed her that the King was now openly courting the attentions of Lady Jane Seymour, a Catholic lady who had been a Lady-in-waiting to Mary's mother and who, Chapuys assured her, supported Mary completely.

Any other time this news might have made Mary very hopeful for the future but at the moment she could summon the strength to care.

Her mother, her biggest supporter, her comfort, the one person who had loved her unconditionally without expecting something from her in return, was gone.

Mary did not bother to wipe away the tears as they fell.

Katharine of Aragon, the thorn in her side for so many years was dead.

But Anne Boleyn could not take much pleasure in that fact. Instead of her fortune's changing, as she had hoped less than two years ago they were growing worse.

Henry was now openly courting Jane Seymour, and though she was a few months with child, her position was still extremely vulnerable. She had to have a healthy son. Or all would be lost.

**27****th**** of January 1536**

Lady Bryan noticed Prince Arthur's cheeks looked slightly flushed. She felt his forehead, as he lie in bed and let out a gasp. His forehead was on fire. Suddenly without warning, he let out a hacking cough, much worse than the cough that had plagued him since he was born and fell back against the pillow. Lady Bryan ran to get the physicians that His Majesty had appointed to the household, worried for her little charge.

She wished she had been a bit nicer to the Lady Mary, for if Arthur died then her niece, Queen of England or no, would be lost, and Mary would be the only heir to the throne. God help the Boleyn's if it came to that.

**29****th**** of January 1536**

He had said no. Her own father had not allowed her to see her mother in death, much like he had in life.

Mary did not know why, after all it was not as though they could plot against him now!

Not only had he not allowed her to go to her own mother's funeral, but he had buried her, not as the Queen of England, Ireland and France, not as the Queen of Hearts of the English people, not even as a Spanish Infanta, but as the Dowager Princess of Wales.

It was the final insult, and at least Mary could be glad that her mother was not there to witness such a display.

Her brother Arthur was now very ill, with a fever and constant coughing. He had been ill for two days now, and the illness was growing worse with each passing hour. Mary was confined to her rooms, suspected of poisoning the child, though that was ridiculous, anyone could see that she loved that child and spent as much time as she possibly could with him.

It was the cruellest sort of irony that on the very day her mother was being laid to rest, her brother, her beloved brother was dying.

In fact, as Katharine of Aragon was being laid to rest, Arthur, Prince of Wales was taking his last breath in this world.

The whole country was in a state of mourning. Henry had been subconsciously preparing for this day for the past two years but that didn't make it any less painful. He had lost his only son and heir, on the very same day his troublesome wife (or not wife, depending on what mood he was in), was being laid to rest.

He could almost hear Katharine laughing at him from heaven.

See. He could hear her say.

See where your precious son got you Henry, see what your whore brought you, nothing but pain! She gave you a son, only to take it away again. Now my Mary, our daughter, is your only heir, again. It is a sign Henry, a sign from God himself. Mary is destined to be Queen.

His subconscious spoke the truth however, Henry's only heir, once again was his daughter Mary. He needed another heir, quickly.

Henry could not speak to Anne, he could barely look at her his pain was so great. She, and she alone had caused the death of his precious, his only son and heir. Not directly, for consumption had, in the end, finished poor Prince Arthur. But she might as well have, she was responsible for his weak health, if she had not worried and caused the babe to come early then all would be well, Arthur would be strong and healthy and he would not have died so young.

He was tired of Anne, of her temper and her passion and her promises. She had promised him a healthy son, not a weakling! And she had lost another of his sons, lost him through lack of care. That had been over a year ago and still, she showed no signs of being with child.

With each day that passed Henry was beginning to fall more and more in love with Lady Jane Seymour, a sweet and chaste young woman who had refused to be his mistress but was still a great comfort in his time of grief. She knew how important Arthur had been to him, and though she had every reason to wish Anne bad fortune, Henry knew that she would have given anything to ensure that Arthur was alive again, so that England could have stability.

England needed an heir, and if Anne could not provide one, well Henry would just have to look elsewhere. Instantly Jane Seymour's beautiful face came to mind. Henry tried not to feel guilt at this thought; after all, it was not his fault that England did not have an heir.

It was Anne's.

**31****st**** of January 1536**

" My Lady, I am sorry to inform you that your son, Prince Arthur is dead." My poor boy. Since they had told me the news two days ago, I could not get up from my bed, I could not eat, I could not sleep, all I could think of was that my boy, my saving grace was dead.

And it was Mary's fault.

She had poisoned him, I knew it.

When Henry finally came to see me, I could not help myself.

" Well Madam, why are you still in bed?" Henry said, his eyes angry.

" They tell me that you are abed with grief, I do not know why, for it is you who have caused his death." Henry glared at me.

I sat in bed, in shocked silence for a few moments, before I responded.

" No, Henry, it was not my fault! It was that bastard wench, Mary. She had him poisoned!" For the first time in our marriage, I think Henry is going to hit me.

" Mary was on her knees praying for him, and nursing him. I have the report from Lady Bryan myself that Mary was nothing but kind to Arthur. Who are you to suggest that my own daughter would have poisoned my son! I will see you are well Anne."

He turned to leave and in my folly I blurted out. " It is Mistress Seymour who has turned you against me. We both know that Mary would not hesisitate to kill Arthur. I see the way you look at her and I cannot bear it! I want her gone from court Henry."

" No. Jane stays Anne; she has done nothing to you. Remember Madam, this is my court, and as for my daughter, we would not have to worry about her if you would just give me a son! You have only yourself to blame." He stormed away.

Anne sank back against the pillows, utterly exhausted.

It was later that evening, Anne was dreaming.

"I now crown you, Mary I of England, Ireland and France. All hail Queen Mary. "

Bishop Gardiner announced.

The scene changed.

Anne knelt with her head down, " I ask Your Majesty's forgiveness."

" Forgiveness?" Mary said to Anne scornfully, " Do you repent your sins **Mistress **Anne and acknowledge that you were never my father's wife? Well, even if you did it is far too late. You killed my poor brother, poor Arthur, he paid for your sins. I am Queen now, and I shall **never **forgive you for what you did to me. You are a sinner, and you shall burn for it. I leave you to your misery. You will die alone, just like my mother did, alone and unloved."

Anne woke up, gasping with pain as she clutched her stomach. She slowly lifted up the bed sheets and gasped again with what she saw.

A deformed child. A deformed son.

But before she could think about moving or disposing of her dead son, her ladies came rushing in, alerted by the noise.

" Your Majesty." Nan gasped, horrified as she saw Anne, soaked in her own blood. The ladies in waiting all took a step back.

None would help her.

She was lost.

She had lost his boy. His son. His heir. Cromwell told him that the child was deformed. Deformed! As if any child of his could possibly be deformed, except for the use of…. Witchcraft.

Henry didn't want to believe it, but it was the only explanation that made sense. He knew one thing for certain; he was done with Anne forever. She had proven that she could not give him a son.

They were finished. She was finished.

**30****th**** of May 1536**

Anne was dead. She had been brought to trial and convicted so quickly that Mary could barely process it. Though many despised Anne, herself included the country was shocked that the woman who had, so briefly, been the mother of the King's precious son had fallen so easily. She was tried for adultery and witchcraft. Mary had known it all along of course, but Anne was dead. Gone. Finished. Soon she and her father would be reconciled, and Mary would be restored to the succession at last.

Meanwhile Chapuys informed her that today, a mere eleven days after the Harlot's execution, the King was marrying Jane Seymour. Chapuys assured Mary that Jane was a devout Catholic and planned to reconcile Mary with her father as soon as she was Queen.

Mary dearly wanted to believe her.

**1536**

The oath. It was the only thing stopping Mary and her father from reconciling. Mary could not sign it. She would not. It was ludicrous that she should even have to sign away her rights to potential Heirs to the throne that as of yet, did not even exist. The entire country knew that Mary was the only possible heir to the throne and therefore, if she signed the oath stating that she had no claim to the throne and her father subsequently failed to produce another heir to the throne, when her father died the country would most likely either accept her as Queen despite signing the oath or, refuse to accept her and the country would be torn apart by civil war.

But Mary could not take that chance.

Signing the oath was against her religion, against her conscience and against God. If only her father could understand that signing the oath could endanger the dynasty that he was so anxious to protect and continue.

That heretic, Sir Francis Bryan had tried in vain to frighten her, threatening to 'smash your head against the wall like a boiled apple', as if she, a Princess of the Blood, a true Tudor, could be threatened by that. They both knew he could not touch her, not while she was the only possible heir to the throne. She had faced him Regally, like a true Queen and told him in no uncertain terms that she could not sign the oath. If looks could kill Mary would have been dead on the floor, but he left without a word of protest.

" She swears she will not sign the damn oath. I have used every trick I know to convince her to sign, but she will not. Well, except one…. But I am sure that His Majesty would not like it if I tried to seduce the stupid bitch." Bryan said, grinningly to Cromwell who nodded, frowning.

" In which case I believe it would be prudent to persuade His Majesty not to make the Lady Mary sign the oath given her current status in the line of succession." Cromwell gave Francis a significant look, which conveyed everything that he dare not say aloud. Lady Mary was the only Tudor left since the unfortunate death's of Henry Fitzroy and Prince Arthur and should His Majesty fail to produce any more living children with Jane or another wife, then Mary would inevitably take the crown and if she signed the oath stating that she was ineligible to inherit the English throne….

Cromwell didn't like to think about where that would lead.

No, No, for the time being Cromwell thought it would be wise to keep the Lady Mary close, even if she was a Catholic.

" I think it would be best Your Majesty, to allow the Lady Mary to not sign the oath, at least until Your Majesty has a son, then, if I may suggest, the Lady Mary could sign the oath and acknowledge her own illegitimacy, thus making it more…. effective, in silencing those of Your Majesty's subjects who would seek to challenge the right of the children you will have with Queen Jane"

Henry nodded, deep in thought. It was a sensible idea.

" Very well then, Mr Cromwell, I leave it to you to inform the Lady Mary that she will not have to take the oath, as of yet, and inform her that myself and the Queen shall be paying a visit to her household. "

" Majesty." Cromwell bowed and set off to do the King's bidding.

Jane's heart ached for the poor creature. Until now she had never met the most talked about woman in England, besides herself. Everyone from the nobility down to the peasants had heard the story of the fallen Princess, she had lost her father's love but still found the strength to carry on, like a Phoenix, risen from the ashes. God willing, with Jane's help she would find some happiness in her life.

" Mary, gifts like these are easy, compared with gifts of the heart, it gives me more pleasure than I can say to see you reconciled with your father."

Jane smiled at Mary, presenting her with a lovely diamond ring.

She stood to one side, watching, as the King and his daughter were at last, reconciled. It made her heart smile. With any luck, meek and mild Jane Seymour could help to heal the King's only child and they could be a family.

After all, all Mary truly wanted, Jane thought, was a family. A family to love and care for her, though she was almost a woman, she was starved of affection, particularly due to her treatment at the hands of the last Queen.

Yes, she decided. She would make it her mission to help Mary and if she could not bring back Katharine of Aragon, then she would heal Mary's heart herself.

It was done. Mary and her father were reconciled, all without her having to compromise her holy soul and her beliefs. It was more than she could have hoped for.

Chapuys had warned her that the reprieve from signing the oath was only temporarily.

" I fear, Princess, that Cromwell will wait until the King produces another child before demanding that you very publicly take the oath and therefore convincing your supporters that you are illegitimate." Mary nodded.

" Excellency, I will, of course acknowledge any son that is born to His Majesty and Queen Jane, now that my mother is in eternal rest, it is natural that the King be free to take another wife, and quite frankly, I am delighted that his choice has fallen up Queen Jane. It is her I have to thank, for the reconciliation between my father and myself. Any son born of this union would, of course, be ahead of me in terms of the succession, while any daughters would be behind me." Mary said firmly.

And this of course, was the sticking point.

" Madam, I fear that His Majesty will not see it that way, whether a child with Queen Jane is a girl or a boy, he will want you to cede your rights to the throne regardless. If you sign the oath when the child is born then, even if it is a girl, she will be ahead of you in the succession."

" I am aware of that Excellency, and that is not to say that if Queen Jane did give birth to a daughter, that I would regard her as illegitimate, however as the eldest daughter of the King it is natural that I would be ahead of any daughters from his second true marriage. When the time comes to take the oath, I shall of course refuse and hope that His Majesty does not ask it of me. " Chapuys frowned.

" In any case, this could all be for nought, Excellency, since His Majesty and Queen Jane may not have any children." Mary said, lowering her voice slightly, although they were alone in the room.

Chapuys let the matter drop, the Princess was right, after the disaster of the King's other off-spring, Henry Fitzroy and Arthur, dead much before their time, it looked unlikely that the King would produce anymore children. They would worry about the Princess taking that damn oath, when or indeed, if, a child was born.

**1537**

Poor Queen Jane. God rest her soul. She had given the King his longed for son, but at the cost of her own life. Mary had held her hand and watched as she pushed the Prince into the world and grew weaker and weaker. Twelve days later, she was dead. The entire Kingdom was plunged into grief.

No one was more devastated at the Queen's death than Mary, other than the King. Her poor motherless brother! Just a few short days ago, Queen Jane had watched as Mary, the Godmother, held her son as he was christened and now her poor brother had lost his mother, and Mary had lost the closest thing to a mother she had.

Unfortunately for Mary she had little time to grieve over the Queen's death, for not a week after the Queen's funeral, she received a note from Cromwell.

Dear Lady Mary-

_As you know doubt remember, early last year when His Majesty the King granted you the right to refuse the oath, as long as His Majesty and the late Queen Jane produced no children. However, the King has been blessed with a true and legitimate son, your brother, Prince Edward. Therefore, the King has commanded that it is time for you to take the oath. I am to warn you that failure to comply with your father's demands may result in a charge of Treason and incarceration in The Tower._

_Thomas Cromwell. _

She discussed the situation with Chapuys.

" I will not sign it." She stated firmly.

" I am afraid you might have to, Princess." Chapuys said sadly.

" I am not denying Edward's right to the throne. I accept that as a Princess, I would, naturally come after him in the line of succession. However I cannot sign it and recognize myself as illegitimate and that my father is the head of the church. It would be a lie and against my conscience, and against all that my mother fought for."

Mary said fiercely.

Chapuys bit his lip.

" The only thing that I could suggest Princess is that you write to His Majesty, stating that you do not wish to take the oath. Even then, I doubt very much that it will work. But, I am afraid, Princess, that the Emperor is no longer inclined to interfere in this matter, after all you are not his subject, and since he is seeking a new alliance with the King…." He left out the words "You are not important to him." Though they both knew it was true.

" So I am on my own?" He nodded sadly.

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

" Very well then, I shall write to the King."

" I hope that he will listen, Your Grace." Chapuys said, looking at her with concern.

My Dear Lord and Father-

_With regards to the oath, I implore you to be lenient, as you have been so far, I wish to not sign the oath, for it would be a pointless exercise, I feel that I have already proven my loyalty to Your Majesty, as well as my beloved brother, Prince Edward, whose legitimacy and your marriage to the late Queen Jane cannot be questioned. _

_With your permission, I would like to retire to Hunsdon. _

_Your obedient daughter, Mary._

Henry sighed, burying his head in his hands. Queen Jane had only been dead a matter of weeks and with the joy of having a son and the sorrow of burying his sweet Jane, he had completely forgotten all about the oath.

What would be the point of making her take the oath now, she said it herself, Mary has proven to be nothing but obedient and a loving older sister to Edward. If she wishes to leave court for a while, why not?

Henry couldn't find a reasonable argument. After all, he had a son now, he did not need Mary. As long as she agreed to keep the title of 'Lady Mary' and live quietly, causing no rebellion among his subjects, then he did not see why she should not be allowed to avoid taking the oath. He could never confirm publicly that she was legitimate (even though he privately admitted she always had been), for that would damage his pride and he would have to admit to the Pope in Rome that he was wrong, and King Henry VIII did not like to be wrong.

No, no. He would let Mary leave court, but she would not come back until _he _wanted her too. This would be the last time that he would let his disobedient daughter tell him what to do.

Mary-

_You may leave court. Do not return until you are commanded to. _

_Your father, Henry Rex_

**1540**

Mary's self-imposed banishment from court lasted three years; the only time she was permitted to court was for the Christmastide festivities each year and her birthday. She kept up a weekly correspondence with Lady Bryan, her brother's governess who kept her informed about what went on in her brother's life.

It was not until early 1540, that she returned to court just in time to witness her father's fourth 'marriage' to the German Princess, Anne of Cleves. Mary disliked her from the beginning due to the fact that she was a known Heretic, but other than that there was nothing remarkable about her.

Her father was unable to consummate the marriage, due to her ugliness, but Chapuys informed her discreetly that it was more likely due to her father's growing impotence than anything else.

In fact, the most unremarkable of her father's wives so far, was the key to an event of great happiness in Mary's life.

That happiness was in the form of Duke Philip of Bavaria, the Queen's esteemed cousin who had come to pay court to her.

Mary had not planned on giving him the time of day, after all, he was obviously a heretic, and a mere Duke should not hope to win the heart and hand of a Princess, albeit and unacknowledged one.

But he was handsome and witty and charming. When he looked at her and grinned, a smile of pure amusement, she was briefly reminded of her cousin Charles V when she had met him at the age of six, but most especially of her father as he used to be.

Then he kissed her, which was so inappropriate, considering she was the second Lady in the land and he was a nobleman, but for once. Just _once _she felt like a girl, a girl who had no worries in the world, a girl who was _in love_. The idea was utterly foreign to her, but it felt _so right. _

Mary knew then that despite their differences in both religion and social standing that she wanted to marry him.

" Why are you crying?" he had asked after their first kiss.

" I am crying because I am so happy." She said, smiling.

" You have made me so happy. Happier than I ever thought possible." She whispered to him.

" Princess Mary" he began nervously in that secluded corner, " I know that we hardly know each other, and I a mere Duke, have no right to ask this of you, forgive me if I seem forward, but I would be honoured, _honoured_ to marry such a perfect jewel as you. That is… if you will allow me to ask your father permission?" he said, looking at her hopefully.

Mary's head span. This was all moving a bit too fast for her.

" Philip… you have made me so happy, and I would marry you but…"

" But…?" he prompted her

" But you are a Lutheran and I am a Catholic."

He laughed. "Princess, I am not a Lutheran, I never have been, and I am faithful to the one true church. I am a Catholic."

A smile of pure joy made it's way onto Mary's face.

" Then yes, Duke Philip, if my father gives permission, I will marry you."

Philip pulled her into a gentle kiss that left her gasping with something that Mary was sure was desire.

A desire for love.

The very next week, Philip sought a private audience with the King. Philip knew that the King knew what this audience was about. What he didn't know was how the King would react.

" Your Majesty." Philip said, bowing deeply and after a quick scan of the room, realised they were alone.

" Duke Philip. I hear that you wish to make a proposal to me, regarding the marriage of my daughter, Mary."

Philip nodded.

" The Princess Mary and I have only known each other for a short while, Your Majesty, but I have spoken to her and the Princess has agreed to marry me, with your permission of course." He said nervously.

" You realise that if I gave my permission for this marriage, you would have to agree to remain in England, living at court, and of course, agree to treat my beloved daughter with all the respect due to her, as the second highest Lady in the realm, and a person of Royal blood. She will never inherit the throne, but that does not mean that her happiness and whom she marries is not of great importance to me. I want her to be happy, Duke Philip and I do not want her married off to a man who would mean to use her as a political pawn in some foolish, treasonous attempt to gain the throne, for I can assure you that Mary will never be Queen. Do you understand?" Henry replied, glaring at him slightly.

" Of course Your Majesty, I love the Princess and I believe she loves me. I care for her a great deal and would never wish to see harm come to her, I would treat her with all due respect as befits a woman of her status, and make sure her life is as comfortable and filled with joy as possible." Philip tactfully failed to mention that up until that point her life had been lacking in almost any joy or happiness.

" Very well then Duke Philip, if my daughter has consented to the marriage, then I agree. " Philip was astonished that the King had agreed.

" Thankyou Your Majesty, if I may leave, I should like to inform the Princess myself." Henry nodded, waving his hand and Philip gratefully left.

And that was how, a few short minutes' later Princess Mary Tudor of England, found that she was soon to become, Princess Mary Tudor, a Princess of England, but now, also, a Duchess of Bavaria. She would soon be a married woman.

**1541**

However, it was not until 1541 that Philip and Mary stood in the church and promised to become man and wife. Henry was utterly wrapped up in divorcing Anne of Cleves, and when he had finally achieved that, after six long months, he promptly become bet roved to Catherine Howard, the Harlot's cousin and a silly, vain thing, younger than Mary.

Mary said nothing, lest it jeopardize her chances of marrying Philip. Then she found out that her wedding day had finally arrived, she was to be married on the same day as her father and Catherine Howard. It was not ideal, but Mary made the best of it.

Many people thought she was marrying below her status, the Ambassador included. He had been outraged when he thought Philip was a Lutheran, but when it was discovered that he was indeed a Catholic they became quite good friends. Mary was just thankful that she was marrying the man she loved.

The blessed day had finally arrived. Mary stood at the alter of the church, she was wearing a beautiful purple dress, adorned with white and red Tudor roses (purple being the colour of Royalty) while Philip wore a white and purple suit, with a red and white rose in his buttonhole.

Even the other bride, Catherine Howard, could not outshine the pure joy on Mary's face, and even King Henry's contentment at his young soon to be wife, could not rival the love and happiness in Philip's eyes as the clasped hands and promised to love each other forever.

The ceremony was Catholic and even in Latin, so Mary did not have to worry about her immortal soul. Everyone in Europe knew that the King was a Catholic again with one minor difference- he did not answer to the pope.

It was everything she could have hoped for.

" I now pronounce you, Philip, Duke of Bavaria and Prince of England and you, Princess Mary Tudor, Duchess of Bavaria, husband and wife."

Mary swore she could feel her mother's presence. Mary hoped she would be proud of her daughter, Mary was not married to a Prince or a King, but she was happy.

The King had unofficially recognized his daughter as legitimate, since it would be an embarrassment to him, to have Mary marry someone, even a Duke without a clear definition of her status; besides, Mary's chances of becoming Queen were rather remote. It did not really matter about her status now that she was no longer heir to the throne.

Cheering jarred Mary from her thoughts as Bishop Gardiner finished speaking and Philip suddenly pulled her in for an explosive kiss.

Mary felt all tingly inside, as she gazed into Philip's warm brown eyes she felt giddy.

This must be love….

**1541**

However the joys of being in love and a married woman at last were short lived. Less than six months after they married, Mary's brother, Prince Edward fell ill. He had a constant fever, chills, vomiting and he was in and out of consciousness.

He was only four years old, and the King and court were frantic at the weak health of the only son. Edward had been weak from birth, something that the physicians put down to Jane's difficult labour, he was not as weak as Arthur had been, but he was so weak that any illness, no matter how minor, was a serious problem.

Mary was by his bedside almost constantly, nursing him, willing him to get well. Even though he was her rival for the throne, in that moment she would have given up the chance to be Queen, if only he would be well. She loved her young brother fiercely.

She had loved Arthur of course, but in the back of her mind there was always the fact that he was _her _child, born of a sinful union. Arthur looked so much like the Harlot that it had pained Mary sometimes to look upon him.

But with Edward it was different, he looked exactly like his mother, he was born of a blessed union between her beloved father and a sweet, kind, chaste woman who had done nothing but good for Mary and her father. He was a true Prince. Ever since he was born and had become motherless Mary, as his only sister, had tried to take an interest in his welfare, regularly corresponding with Lady Bryan and spending as much time with him as possible, though she had not lived at court permanently until her marriage.

She spent hours praying to God, to spare her brother; she cared nothing for the crown if it meant that he was dead and gone from the world, his blue eyes never to look upon her, his cheeky smile never again to appear on his small face…

Alas, God had deserted Mary, he had not heard her pleas and poor, sweet Edward, departed the earth after over a week of fighting. The country was again, plunged into mourning for the second time in four years.

The King was devastated by the loss of his only son and the pressure was now upon the King's new wife, the young, silly, vain Catherine 'Kitty' Howard to produce a new Prince of Wales.

Though they did not get on well, (Mary hated to curtsy to someone who was barely fit to be the King's mistress not his wife, someone younger than her and who, to top it all of, was the cousin of the Harlot.) Mary had to feel sorry for Catherine, it was all depending on her to produce an heir for an aging King who did not have a very good record of producing heirs when he was younger, let alone now.

Mary was so caught up in her grief that for a moment she completely forgot that she was once again, the only Tudor heir left.

Mary shivered, as she realised that her dream of becoming Queen was closer than ever.

Henry sure hadn't forgotten the fact that Mary was now the _only _heir left. It had been a few months since his beloved son, Prince Edward had died, and in fact the court was still in mourning. It was up to his beloved 'Rose without a thorn' Catherine to produce an heir. He was growing impatient, it had been a year since his marriage, and Catherine had yet to produce any signs that she was with child. He refused to admit that, after all he had gone through, to obtain them, both of his sons had died before him.

One thing was for sure.

He could_ not _leave Mary as his heir.

Catherine was uncharacteristically worried. Even she could sense that the King was displeased with her failure to produce a child. Everyone at court kept staring at her stomach. The worst part was she could not even tell them that if there _was _a child, it was much more likely to be the groomsman's than the King's. So, Catherine was thrilled when her course did not come on its appointed day. She was cautious, however, since she had a lot of trouble counting and keeping track of her bleeding.

When a week passed however, she was sure she was with child. If only she had known that it takes much longer than being a week late with a course to know for certain whether one is with child.

The King was ecstatic of course, and she felt smug, and secure in his love, confident that she would give him a son. Catherine stared down in shock at her undergarments, when, not even a week after she had told the King, they were stained with blood.

She was not pregnant.

Still, she consoled herself, it was not her fault. Surely the King would see that, and then she would soon be with child for real.

Henry was disappointed, and that was putting it mildly.

For the first time in her short married life, Catherine was afraid.

After all, she _was_ wife number 5.

_That stupid, silly… girl! _Henry fumed.

She had fooled him into thinking she was with child only to confess that she had been mistaken.

Mistaken!

Henry had already imagined what his strong and healthy son would look like. He would have Catherine's red hair and his blue eyes, and he would be named Charles (after his closest friend). Charles Tudor. His hope for the future.

She is young and silly. Soon she will be with child.

He really hoped so. **1542**

Mary was almost certain that she was with child. She had heard that Catharine Howard, was also with child, but she was too focused on telling Philip the joyous news to feel very annoyed at the fact.

" Husband" she said, when they were in bed together that night.

" Philip…. I am with child." She said, looking up at him happily, her hands moving to her still flat stomach.

He sat bolt upright then, and turned to her with hope in his eyes.

" Sweetheart, that is the best news. So quickly as well. I am… I am astonished." He stammered a little with emotion, at the thought that in a few months he would be a proud father to a little creature, who would be half Mary's and half his.

A symbol of their love.

" I shall, of course, pray for a son. But I hope you will not be displeased if it is not." She said, slightly nervous.

Philip could see the fear of rejection in her eyes and hastened to reassure her.

" Sweetheart, I shall adore our child, no matter what the sex. If we have a son to carry on the Dukedom then so be it. But I would love a daughter, who would inherit her mother's beauty that is unrivalled by any woman in Europe."

Mary laughed then, a sound that Philip relished, as it was so rare.

" I shall tell the King in the morning. But for now, I believe I need a little something to help me sleep." Taking the hint, he kissed her gently, placing his hands over hers on her belly and sighing with contentment.

" I wish I could stay like this with you forever, my love." He whispered.

Mary could not agree more.

However, with what happened next, Mary did not get a chance to inform her father about the child. Catharine Howard was arrested, soon after she confessed that she was not actually with child.

She was stripped of her title and executed. Catharine Howard was no more.

Mary could not say she was upset, but she was not happy either. She felt deeply sorry for the poor, stupid creature.

It was a few weeks after her death when Mary finally plucked up the courage to tell her father.

" Mary, my daughter. I have not seen much of you for a long while." Henry beckoned her over to the throne beside him. She was the unofficial Queen for the Christmastide festivities.

" I am sorry for that Your Majesty, but I have some joyous news indeed." A genuine smile lit up her pretty face.

" What is it sweetheart?" Henry questioned.

" I am with child, Your Majesty." She said quietly.

_With child! _Henry's heart leapt.

" Sweetheart, that is the best news. " He grasped her hand in his own.

" Where is Duke Philip?" Henry asked his beaming daughter.

Suddenly Philip appeared.

" Duke Philip. You must be very pleased!" Henry said.

Philip bowed.

" I am indeed, Your Majesty." He smiled.

" I would like to have you on my Privy Council, Duke Philip. If that would please, you of course?" Henry asked abruptly.

" I would be honoured, Your Majesty. If you will excuse me, I will take my leave of you now." Philip kissed Mary's cheek and bowed again to Henry.

" So, sweetheart, any idea how far along you are?" Henry gently put his hand over her slightly rounded stomach.

" I believe it is three months, Your Majesty." Henry laughed with delight.

" Father."

" Father." She amended, her smile widening ever so slightly.

" I have been praying for a healthy son, Your Maj…. Father." She said, knowing it would please him.

" I shall have all the church's in England praying for the health of you and the child, Mary. Now sweetheart, you know you must be careful. You cannot dance, or ride out or engage in anything that might risk harming the child." Henry said, concerned.

" I know father. I will be careful." She smiled at him, her heart full of joy.

" I am so happy Mary, my Pearl of my world." Henry smiled at her tenderly and kissed her on the forehead.

Mary was the happiest she had been ever since her mother had been alive, she was married to a man she adored, was carrying his child and her father was happier with her than he had been in years, especially with her refusal to take the oath, Mary thought that their relationship might never recover.

Of course her father expected a son.

But what if it is a girl, or dead?

Try as she might, she could not get that thought out of her head.

**1542**

Soon after Mary informed her father that she was with child, Mary's close friend, Lady Catherine Latimer became a widow. Less than a month after that, Lady Catharine Latimer, formerly Parr, became 'Her Majesty, the Queen of England, Ireland and France.'

As it turned out, Queen Catharine was not only beneficial for Henry, who Mary had not seen this happy for sometime, but also for herself.

It was one day over lunch in their private chambers when Catharine first broached the subject of Mary's reinclusion into the succession.

Though Mary had been addressed as Princess for a long while now, Henry had never officially recognized her as legitimate.

But Henry was older now, and with Mary as his only living child, Catharine felt it was important that Mary be fully recognized, not only for the security of the succession but for the family itself.

Perhaps, with her loving intervention, the Duchess of Bavaria and her father could be fully reconciled. Catharine knew that, although their relationship had greatly improved since the Duchess's marriage and subsequent pregnancy, that it had suffered due to the difficulties of the oath, which had seen Mary banished from court a few years earlier.

" Your Majesty…" she began cautiously.

" I wish to make a request of you."

" What is it Kate?" Henry asked, curious.

" I believe that it is in the best interests of this realm, which, as Queen, is a concern to me, that your daughter, the Princess Mary, be fully reinstated to the succession."

Henry frowned.

" Though I shall do my best to fulfil my duties as Queen, as Your Majesty knows, I was married twice before, and produced no children. Also, I am not as young as I once was. I beg Your Majesty to forgive me if I have offended you by speaking out of turn, but you must believe that it is in the best interests of, not only the realm, but also for yourself and the Princess Mary." Katharine continued hurriedly.

Henry thought for a moment. Part of him rejected the idea that he would have no more children. But Henry was no longer as young as he once was and had a continuing leg wound ever since a jousting accident years ago. Mary was, and always had been popular with the people, she was married and best of all, had a child in her belly.

Hopefully a _son. _

So the Tudor dynasty would still be secure.

Mary was a devout Catholic, and though Henry rejected the Pope's rule over his, everyone in Europe knew he was a Catholic in all but name.

All in all, it was not such a bad prospect. What choice did he have otherwise?

He could try to produce another child, but Catharine was not young either, and Henry was almost, _incapable _of performing in the bedchamber, as much as he hated to admit it.

The truth of the matter was, that if he did not make the succession very clear, that when he did die, civil war would likely break out between rival claimants.

He could practically hear Katharine of Aragon laughing in heaven now.

Even after all he did, marrying five other women. It had still come down to her daughter.

It was just as Katharine had always wanted.

" Very well then, I shall issue a proclamation, stating that Mary and her issue are legitimate and that my marriage to her mother was valid and true. " Henry thought that admitting that his marriage was valid, basically, that he had made a mistake would have been more painful, but, in all honesty, he still loved her. She had been his first true love, his Spanish Princess, his wife for over twenty years. Despite what people may have thought, those feelings did not just disappear.

Henry did not think that they would ever disappear.

" It is with pleasure that I announce a Royal proclamation issued by His Majesty, Henry VIII, King of England, Ireland and France, concerning his daughter, the Princess Mary. The Princess and her issue are true and legitimate members of His Majesty's family, and the marriage between King Henry VIII and Queen Katharine of Aragon, was indeed valid. Any indication that this was to the contrary was due to a grave misunderstanding of Scripture." Bishop Gardiner said triumphantly.

The court broke into applause, as Mary, seated with Philip at the Royal table, and smiled radiantly. This was as close to an apology as she would ever get from her father but it did not matter anymore.

At last, all of Europe knew that she was, and always had been, a true Princess.

This was the happiest moment of her life.

August, 1542

Mary's happiness did not last long when, a month before her child was due to be born; she had to go into confinement.

She was bigger than most pregnant women at eight months, and though confinement was stifling, at least she did not have to walk around the court, where she quickly grew tired.

Normally men were not allowed into the confinement chamber, but her father would, of course, visit, and Mary requested that Philip be allowed to visit, to which her father readily agreed.

Mary and Philip had begun discussing names. They had left it until the last moment, as Philip had been busying with his work on the Privy Council, and tending their estates.

" If it is a son, I think it would be best if we named him Henry." She said gently.

" Also, I believe the Emperor requested that, if we have a second son, to name him Charles."

" Whatever you believe is best sweetheart, as long as the child is healthy it does not matter what its name is." Philip smiled.

" What if it is a girl Mary?" Philip said gently, noticing how her face fell slightly as he said that.

" I pray daily for a son." She said quietly.

" I know sweetheart, I know, but we must accept that it might be a daughter."

" Then we shall name her Katharine." Mary said firmly.

" After my late mother. I wish so much that she were here." Mary wiped away a lone tear.

Philip put his arms around her in comfort.

" The Queen has promised to visit you, sweetheart, do not despair, for you shall always have me." He said softly.

" Yes, as long as I have you with me always. All will be well." Mary said.

" Always and forever." He vowed.

**September 1542.**

If anything, her child was slightly late.

One moment she was sewing a little purple jumper, and the next the bedding was soaked, and she was wracked with pain.

Her faithful Lady-in-Waiting, Jane Dormer was rushing around, giving orders, while the Queen gripped her hand in sympathy.

Time passed slowly, and she noticed nothing except the pain.

Then, a change.

" One more push, Your Highness. Just one more." Jane cried.

Mary had never felt so terrible in all her life.

Then, a lone, loud cry.

" A son! You've done it Mary." Katharine Parr, said, wiping her brow.

_A son. _She thought happily, still only half-conscious.

Then she was wracked with pain again.

" The Princess is giving birth, again!" Jane said, astonished.

Then, a few moments later, another cry.

" A son! Another son. Well done, Mary, well done."

Two sons.

Both alive.

She fell back against the bed exhausted.

Mary closed her eyes, and she swore she could see her mother, and Jane, smiling down on her from heaven.

' Your Majesty!" Henry looked up. Henry, Philip and the other members of the council were seated, awaiting the news of the Princess's condition.

" Her Highness had given birth to two healthy sons!"

Two? Two sons?

Henry grinned.

" How is the Princess?" Henry questioned the man.

" She is very tired, Your Majesty, but the physician's have stated that she will soon recover."

Yes, this was excellent news indeed.

" Congratulations, Duke Philip." Henry said, turning to Philip.

" I thank Your Majesty." Philip could not keep the smile off his face.

" They are beautiful Mary, healthy and strong I hope?" Henry said, sitting by his daughter's bedside, cradling one of the twins.

" According to Doctor Butts, they are both healthy father." Mary said, smiling down at her son.

" Have you decided on names, sweetheart?" Henry continued.

" Henry and Charles." Mary held her breath, as always, she was unsure as to which country her father hated this month.

Luckily, due to the recent declaration made by Henry about his 'beloved Aunt and cousin's true status' Charles and Henry were at war with France and not with each other.

" I will leave you with your husband." Henry said as he bent down to whisper in her ear.

" I am so proud of you sweetheart, two fine sons." Mary's smile grew strained.

She knew her father would not have said that if it had been twin _girls._

**1546**

The last four years had flown by. Mary's life had finally achieved some normality. To everyone's surprise (and most of England's relief), Catherine Parr had managed to keep her position as Queen without a divorce or losing her head. Mary and Philip had another son, named Philip, and two beautiful daughters named Katharine and Jane.

Henry had mellowed out in his old age and showered gifts on his five beloved grandchildren. With three perfectly healthy sons and two healthy daughters with which to make Royal marriages, the Tudor Dynasty was secure. As a result, Henry was finally persuaded to make his will, stating that in the event of his death:

My daughter, the Princess Mary, Duchess of Bavaria shall rule as Queen Regent of England, Ireland and France, with her husband, Prince Philip, Duke of Bavaria, ruling as King Consort until such a time as the Princess passes on, or chooses to abdicate, thereby, the Crown shall pass to the eldest child, Henry, Duke of York and his legitimate issue. Failing that, the Crown shall then pass to Charles, Duke of Richmond and his legitimate issue, if that should also fail, then the Crown will pass to Philip, Duke of Cornwall. If these three produce no legitimate issue then the crown will in turn pass to the Lady Katharine, Duchess of Northumberland and her issue. If she should die then the Lady Jane, Duchess of Pembroke and her issue shall inherit the Crown. If all of the Princess Mary's issue should fail to produce issue, then the Crown will pass to the eldest daughter of my late sister, the Princess Mary, Duchess of Suffolk, Lady Frances Grey and her issue.

I, Henry Tudor, by the Grace of God, King of England, Ireland and France, declare this Last Will and Testament to be valid in this year of 1546.

Mary was overjoyed. It was a complete contrast to those hellish years when she was in her late brother's household, when she was considered a bastard, when she thought that she would never be married, never have children and never be Queen.

Now she had a loving husband, five wonderful children and she was the acknowledged Heiress Apparent. Her relations with her father and stepmother had never been better and the famous Tudor temper was all but gone these days.

Although there would never be complete peace between England, Spain, France and Scotland, relations with all three countries had improved, now that Henry had all but reconciled with the Pope. Relations between England and Spain were even better still now that Henry had 'finally seen the truth' (according to Charles V) and named the Emperor's half Spanish cousin as his heir.

Mary spent much of her time at court with Philip and her children. Normally, Royal children would be sent to various houses such as Hunsden or Hatfield to be educated, but Henry wanted all his family around him. Especially since he had a feeling that this Christmas would be his last.

Mary and Philip were more than ready to assume the throne. Mary had been trained by her mother and Lady Salisbury, as well as living in Ludlow Castle as Princess of Wales when she was a mere girl of nine. She had managed her own estates and houses for many years now, while Philip had also had much experience in governance in his homeland of Bavaria. Together, they could easily rule England and train their children well, so that when the time came, they could populate and rule over the Royal houses of Europe as King's and Queen's.

**1547**

The knowledge that his throne was in capable hands comforted Henry VIII, King of England, as, shortly after the New Year celebrations he departed this life and Mary Tudor became Queen Mary I of England, Ireland and France.

Mary could scarcely believe it. The father who had dominated the first thirty years of her life was dead. Sure he had been ill, but Mary was sure he would recover, like he had done so many times before.

The members of the Privy Council including the Seymour brothers and Bishop Gardiner had arrived at her lavish court apartments, informed her that her father was dead, and then, seconds later, pronounced her Queen.

" The King is dead. Long live the Queen! Long live Queen Mary I of England, Ireland and France." Bishop Gardiner had bowed to his new Queen and then slipped the Sovereign's ring onto her finger, the ring that she and so many others had kissed in her father's lifetime was now hers. Dimly, she felt Philip squeeze her hand, but she felt numb.

Numb with both joy and sorrow. Mary knew that her subconscious had been preparing her for this moment since she had been born, but a part of her was shocked. Shocked that they were declaring her Queen and not somebody else.

Any moment now, she would wake up, back in Prince Arthur's household and realise that this had all been a dream.

Mary finally realised that it wasn't a dream and that she was indeed, Queen of England, Ireland and France, when Bishop Gardiner placed the holy oil on her forehead and breast, when he handed her the Royal Sceptre (the one traditionally used by a King) and placed the crown that her mother had worn (Normally she would have worn the King's crown, but she needed her mother with her if not in body then in spirit) onto her head, while Philip was then handed a slightly smaller Sceptre and a smaller crown was placed upon his head.

" I, Bishop Stephan Gardiner of England, do solemnly Crown you, by the power invested in me by God, Her Royal Majesty Mary I, Queen Regent of England, Ireland and France and Duchess of Bavaria and His Royal Highness Phillip, King Consort of England, Ireland and France and Duke of Bavaria."

Their children played a large part in the Coronation procession and they too gained new titles. Henry became 'His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales', while Charles became 'His Royal Highness Prince Charles, Duke of York', while Phillip the younger became 'His Royal Highness Prince Phillip, Duke of Richmond.' Katharine and Jane became 'Her Royal Highness Princess Katharine, Duchess of Northumberland' and 'Her Royal Highness Princess Jane, Duchess of Pembroke'. Crowds lined the streets for miles, as they made their way to and from the church.

Mary was slightly worried about how the public would react to Philip, a foreigner, being proclaimed a 'King Consort' rather than a 'Prince Consort' but most of England loved Philip. They had known him for six years as the husband of their beloved Princess and Philip had made sure to win their respect and admiration by having a good reputation for the ability to make sensible decisions on the Privy Council and being a devoted husband and father.

After the long Coronation ceremonies, Mary now had to focus on governing England, not an easy task even with Philip and the other members of the council to help her.

One of her first acts, as Queen was something that she had wanted for a long time. " I hereby banish all members of the Boleyn and Howard families from court, until such a time as I see fit to allow them to return." Phillip had advised her against such an act of vengeance, but she had promised herself that someday, the family who had attempted to ruin her life, and completely destroyed her mother's would know her power. Now they did. Another important act was to return England to the Pope and Rome. Although Henry VIII had made it clear that England was Catholic, he had never fully returned to Rome and that was a mistake that she fully intended to correct.

Most people in England were Catholic and had been ever since Henry had named Mary as his heir a few years ago, and it became clear England would return fully to Catholicism, if not through Mary, then through her children. So therefore the return to Rome was rather smooth. There were still a number of Protestants in England, but as long as they went to church at least once a week, Mary gave them no cause for complaint. As long as they kept their faith a secret and did not openly rebel against Catholicism, they would be safe.

**1567**

It had been twenty years since the faithful day when Mary Isabella Tudor became Queen of England, Ireland and France. England had prospered since then, Protestant rebellion was almost unheard of. Mary and Philip had become 'Their Royal Highnesses, Mary, Queen Regent of England, Ireland and France and Queen Consort of Bavaria, and Philip, King Consort of England, Ireland and France and King Regent of Bavaria" when Phillip's brother had died, shortly after Philip became the King Consort, and Philip had inherited the small, but profitable Kingdom of Bavaria. Their eldest sons, Henry and Charles were now twenty five, while their youngest, a girl named ' Her Royal Highness, Princess Mary, Duchess of Kent' was born in 1549 was just shy of eighteen. All of her children had either married someone from the Nobility of England or from the Royal house of Spain. Though England's relations with Scotland and France were cordial, all of Europe knew that her alliance would lie with Spain. England had grown so prosperous that Queen Mary's reign was being hailed a 'Golden Age', few could believe that the young girl who had seemed so broken when Anne Boleyn was 'Queen' had risen up to become a Queen who had reigned better than many other English Kings.

It was a unanimous opinion throughout all of Europe; Mary Tudor had truly become the Queen that her mother had wanted her to be.

Her life had come full circle. From a Princess, to a bastard, to a Princess again. She had fulfilled her destiny and become a Queen, against all the odds. Who would have thought that when Anne Boleyn had a son, that her greatest enemy, the bastard Princess would ever become Queen?

Whether she reigned for another five years or another twenty years, Mary Tudor would surely go down in history as England's first and greatest Queen Regent She was married to a wonderful husband, and had six beautiful children, who would make sure that the Tudor dynasty continued on until the end of time.

Never again would England have to suffer the succession crisis that had plagued most of Mary's life. Her children would bring peace to England for generations and the threat of civil war was extinguished.

She would be forever known as Queen Mary I of England, Ireland and France, the Peacemaker and ruler of a Golden Age.

Her destiny was complete.

**AN: So that's it! I was going to go into greater detail about Mary's reign and the reign of her son Henry IX but I just felt that it was better to end it there. I hope you liked it. I just really wanted Mary to have a happy ending. Also sorry to you Chary lovers, but I am not a huge fan of them. I may do a sequel focusing on the lives of Mary and Philip's children, we'll see. **


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